Current States
by TheOneYouCallWe
Summary: Zim has a proposition to make. Unbeta'd.


Current States

Summary: Zim has a proposition to make.

Ramblings: -scream in agony- Arrrgh. This is what happens when your muse is hibernating. Dx

Notes: Inspired by _A Room With a Moose,_ and Dib's "You're just BEGGING to face The Moose!" line. Aaand Dib's kind of whacked-out-ness in _The Frycook What Came From All That Space._

**IMPORTANT NOTES: **First Zim fic. I feel weird saying that, even. Anything J.V.-esque is hard to write about.

* * *

Dib felt rather vulnerable, having been actually _invited—_no threats of obliteration, no nanoships in one's body, just a simply invitation—into Zim's glowing green house. Some would feel insecure in such an odd home, but he had camped out in front of and inside the bizarre place that vulnerability was rare for him. 

He bit his lip sharply, trying to focus on something other than the passing of time, waiting for Zim to appear out of the many exits from his underground home. He had even tried so far as to attempt to make a conversation with the insane robot, but that had been cut short when GIR had screamed at him the moment he even _looked_ at him.

He jolted slightly as the floor began to shake, signifying that Zim had finally arrived back from…wherever-he-had-disappeared to. The initial 'invitation' had, ironically, been to watch over GIR to make sure the world didn't blow up.

Zim wanted that satisfaction for himself, even six years later.

Time had progressed in a ridiculous fashion, with random periods of Zim's absence from his plots and interference with Dib's life—as exciting as those interferences could be. Flying entire planets was some of the most fun he'd had in years, and he often reminisced of those days.

"What the hell does he want from me, anyways…"

"A proposition."

He jerked abruptly at the sound of the alien's voice, jumping clear off the pig-pink couch. He stood still as a deer caught in the headlights, wondering just what Zim was planning for his untimely demise _now._

"Relax, human. If I intended to kill you today, I would have done so by now." He waved a gloved hand idly as Dib opened and shut his mouth in stunned silence. "Also, your curiosity far outweighs your common sense."

"That's you, Zim," he blurted without thinking, then cowered and shut his mouth in fright. However, Zim simply laughed in that eerie, manic sort of way, and shook his antennae in disbelief.

He flashed a toothy kind of grin, almost malicious. "That proves my point, Dib. You and I oppose one another, as a Shlorg rejects her young." Not caring to explain the genetics and social status of the young, he continued. "You have the compulsion, or impulsion, if you will, to do what you believe is right. But, I ask you," and suddenly Dib felt like he was listening to a modern-day Shakepeare, "is saving those whom do not recognize you 'right'?"

"What do you mean?"

"The wormhole, Dib. Do you not remember the event? I know, or at least surmise, that you were considering offering those…_disgusting __**creatures**_their very demise." Zim twitched and spasmed at the thought of the past schoolchildren.

"I do remember, but--"

"Yes?"

"…that was years ago, Zim. You still hold a grudge over one incident?"

"One incident for myself, perhaps. But for you? One out of many." Zim began stalking towards the other, and although still being rather short in stature, was very menacing in his own way. "Do they not deserve what initially was in store for them?" Dib was for sure of it now: Zim had finally lost it.

"You want to _kill _them? Sure, a room with a moose is pretty fucking disturbing, but to _kill_ them? You've lost it, Zim!" He yelled back, gaining back some of his shattered, teenage ego.

"Have I, now? One more life, or one thousand more, what is the difference? Your kind are all the same, no matter how they are 'packaged', so to speak. You, however, are the only exception I know of." Barely missing a beat, he drew out a dual-sided blade, engrained with the Irken Soldier symbol on the hilt. He held it out to the human, not a joke or comedic taunt in his red, red eyes.

Minutes of silence passed between the two. Dib was half-expecting Zim to suddenly lash out with another blade and ram it through his chest, but still he knew the alien would never stoop so low. 'Honor' and whatnot.

"You mean it? Join forces?"

"Your family is not your family, am I right? What have you left to keep hold of?"

"You're not really an Invader, though."

"I never had family in the first place."

Dib could only stare quietly, deciding pros and cons. If he accepted, his home world would be destroyed; what he had known of since he existed—or believe he had. On the other hand, he would finally have the opportunity to see the world for what it really was, and perhaps even find what he originated from.

"…I accept."


End file.
